


Anacharsis Cloots Is Very, Very Horny For Revolution

by PlinytheYounger



Category: French Revolution RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 16:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15076913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlinytheYounger/pseuds/PlinytheYounger
Summary: I can't apologise enough for this story about semi-obscure member of the National Convention, internationalist Anacharsis Cloots a.k.a. The Personal Enemy Of God. Thank you to Sath for causing this.





	Anacharsis Cloots Is Very, Very Horny For Revolution

“Clootz! How can we thank you for that magnificent spectacle on the Champs du Mars? How did you come to travel such vast distances to embrace the cause of French liberty?”

“I’m just a young man with a dream and an incredibly racist but well-connected uncle,” Clootz said brightly.

“Also, how did you manage to introduce yourself as Baron val de Clootz to everyone, then immediately support a bill banning aristocratic titles, then claim to have  _introduced_ the bill?”

“I’m incredibly flexible,” Clootz explained. He obligingly crossed his ankles behind his neck.

***

“Good morning, Citizen…?”

“Anacharsis Clootz.”

“Anaxagoras Chaumette.”

Two Phrygian caps hit the floor at once. They embraced with the fervour of men who would cause St-Just to pass a law solely against renaming yourself in really absurd ways.

*********

**“** Okay, so, the future department of the Thames, Paris the universal capital, a  _giant bridge of boats across the Atlantic_?” Desmoulins said slowly. “That’s…a lot of ideas. Really something. I’m getting some…intense visions here. I feel like you’re about to seize me by the hairs of my head and transport me, like – ”

“I could do that,” said Clootz, trouserless to his very soul.

 *****

“I am so unbelievably fucked off about this,” Pereira said. He rolled up an  _assignat_ and snorted a row of snuff directly off the jail floor. Lung cancer was basically a moot question at this point. “What the fuck am  I doing getting arrested with Hébert?”

“Whoa, don’t quarrel, guys,” Clootz said. “On account of how after we’re dead, we are going to be permanently dead, and there are no quarrels between  _heaps of bones in the formless and eternal void._ ”

Momoro looked at him with the solemnity of a man at a crucial point of history. They were on the verge of the Revolution’s lowest point, the betrayal of France’s most deeply held principles by executing national treasure Gerard Depardieu. “Fuck, it’s you who should ask what the fuck you’re doing here. You’re like our innocent fucking angel of light.”

“There are absolutely no angels anywhere at all, only the sovereign Republic,” Clootz said. “Stay strong! They say there are no atheists in a foxhole, but there’s always room for an atheist in  _my –_ “

“Will you kindly  _shut the fuck up,_ ” Hébert said. 


End file.
